Sufficiently analysed magic is indistinguishable from technology
by Mahogany Monk
Summary: Shepard needs a crew, and Mr Potter's on the list. After all, two saviours are better than one... More of a series of ficlets than a coherent story, but I try to keep them in a logical order
1. Chapter 1

AN: So this is set in ME2 for Mass Effect, and well post DH for Harry Potter. Screw the epilogue. Harry's just as confused as you are as to why he is where he is. And this is a bit of an old story, so he has a touch of God Mode Sue. Sorry about that.

* * *

Something twinged on the edge of Harry's awareness, a prickling sensation that made him look up towards the wall of the apartment he kept on the Citadel. It was a sensation that he'd started to associate with biotics, though he only noticed it when out of high pressure situations. His mouth twisted into a thoughtful grimace as he felt the signal move across. It was strong, similar in scale to an asari matriarch, but now that he took the time to truly sense it, the tone felt different to the few matriarchs he'd spent any time around. The sensation stopped moving, staying motionless outside his door, and he tensed warily. The door chime rang out suddenly, startling the time-displaced wizard, and he shot to his feet. A few seconds later the chime sounded again, and a pair of muffled voices sounded through the door.

Harry moved to his side of the door, preparing himself to dodge instantly if needed, and cautiously tapped the open key. The door slid open, and the trio of armour clad figures on the other side turned back to the door.

"Good, you _are_ in." The lead figure commented. Harry didn't respond immediately, taking in the little group with 2 years worth of practice in the mercenary field. Well armed, heavily armoured, and a rather eclectic group, even with closer alien-human relations. A Turian – the helmet preventing Harry from knowing the gender – in scarred but serviceable blue armour, clearly the victim of a rather viciously damaging attack, stood next to an obviously female Quarian in a form-fitting envirosuit. Harry's gaze flicked across her suit, taking in the contrast between the clearly well used and maintained guns strapped to her waist, and the soft lines and gently swirling patterns on the hood. This appraisal took only a moment for the two aliens, and Harry then stared into the eyes of a woman he'd once been hired to find. His brain hung for a few seconds, till the redhead opposite him cocked her head slightly, before enquiring:

"Are you Potter? Harry Potter?" Harry's eyes narrowed. There were three people he'd told that name to, and two of them were dead.

"Yes." He answered. Little point in lying after all, not when they had found his little bolt-hole. "And you're dead." He said it calmly, but inside he was prepared to move, to fight. This could be his break – resurrection would require magic. He could find the wizards again. His remark was not received quite as calmly as it was made.

The aliens stood behind the resurrected Spectre reached for their weapons instinctively, but the redhead held a hand out to her side, warning the two off. They stood down without a word, though the Quarian kept her hand on the butt of her shotgun. The woman nodded,

"Yes. I was. An organisation called Cerberus brought me back." Harry felt his brief moment of hope slip away. He'd encountered Cerberus before, and it explained how they knew his name. Their leader was the third man, the one who got away. No magic there at all.

"And what is it a resurrected Cerberus lackey could want from me, then?" Harry asked provokingly, still eyeing the trio warily. The Quarians hand clenched on the butt of her gun more forcefully, shifting forward as if to say something before the leader answered calmly.

"Nothing. But a resurrected Spectre could use some assistance to save the galaxy." She held out a hand to him. "Jane Shepard. Mind if we talk?"

Harry narrowed his eyes at her, feeling out with his rudimentary leglimantic ability. The rush of images was always hard to interpret, even more so than usual in this case, but the heavily armed woman believed what she was saying. Believed it to a certainty. After a moment of contemplation while her hand hung between them, he responded, reaching out to shake.

"Harry Potter. Come on in."

It was an almost farcical scene, Garrus reflected as they sat in the apartment. The human they had come to recruit clearly was not one for company, having taken the folding chairs he had directed them to sit on out from under a clearly unused table. The suits of armour they wore were not helping matters either, having clearly not been designed for sitting. The human, by contrast, was lounging on the only comfy seat in the apartment and, if Garrus read him right, was entirely too amused by the sight of the three armour-clad individuals perching on the small furniture.

"Saving the galaxy, then?" The man questioned pointedly. "According to what you said after the Battle for the Citadel, you've already done that once."

Garrus couldn't see his commander's face, but he knew she wouldn't look happy. By the tone of her reply he knew he'd been right.

"They only played sanitised clips. Sovereign wasn't the full threat. He was just the vanguard. There are more like him, maybe even thousands more, waiting beyond the edge of the galaxy. If we do nothing we'll be dead" Shepard stood, clearly too agitated to remain seated. "And we've done nothing to prepare for this. Cerberus thinks they have a lead, but I need a strong team to follow it. They passed me a dossier on you, said you'd be an asset." She stopped pacing and faced the human. Potter had stopped lounging during the commander's little speech, Garrus noticed, and was focused on her words. "So," she said. "Are you in?"

"I have a knack for telling when people are lying, or making things up," mused Potter thoughtfully. "And the fact that you seem to be completely on the level makes me wonder whether you're just completely insane." A grim smile played across his face. "Then again, I've been there. Trying to convince an uncaring public that they need to work together to fight a threat they can't see. They called me mad then, too."

Potter stood, and walked over to Shepard, narrowing his eyes again, before the tightness in his face relaxed.

"I have a job I need to finish. Then I'm all yours." Potter nodded as he said it, before moving past the woman toward the door, clearly intending to show them out.

"Need a hand?" Shepard asked, cocking her head as he walked away. "Give us a chance to get to know each other."

Potter turned back, a little grin playing about his features. "Think you can keep up?"

Shepard's answering grin was almost feral.

"So what's the job?" Shepard asked as they wove through the crowded streets in one of the Citadels lower wards. Harry glanced back at her as he lead their odd quartet toward an abandoned office complex.

"A contact on Illium wanted me to find a runner, and I've tracked him to there. We're to bring him in, alive or dead. My preference is for the former though. I need to ask him a few... questions." Shepard nodded, turning to Garrus who, as usual, had anticipated her request.

"Concussion rounds only then?" He asked her, sliding his rifle out to reset the ammo at her nod. Harry looked at him curiously.

"You're the sniper of this little band, I take it?" Garrus grinned inside his helmet as he answered with a hint of pride.

"Damn straight." Harry nodded, before glancing at the Quarian.

"Close quarters?" He asked her, gesturing to the shotgun she held. Tali shook her head as she responded.

"No, I'm the engineer." Shepard frowned. That was unusually terse for the Quarian. She'd see if there was something wrong when they got back on the Normandy. Dismissing the matter for the moment, Shepard turned back to their newest fighter.

"How about you?" She asked.

Harry let a smirk slide onto his face for a moment. "Biotic support." He answered, ignoring the world of difference between his powers and the somewhat limited arsenal of a biotic adept. Shepard nodded, it was always useful to have another powerful adept to back up Jack. After all, the violent girl did have a tendency toward charging into the fight. They could use a more long-ranged biotic fighter. The talking passed the time till they came to the locked door of the building. They stood still momentarily before Tali activated her omni-tool, scanning the door.

"The systems are locked down." She said in frustration. "It'll take me a few minutes to power them up again. Harry rolled his eyes, and shook his head slightly.

"Or, we could do this." He said, gently moving the Quarian to one side. The trio looked at him in confusion as he walked to the door lock, before flicking a hand toward it in a negligent gesture. The door tore off it's mounting, leaving a gaping hole where it used to be. Shepard's eyes narrowed. There'd been no biotic flare, no sign of activated eezo. Something didn't add up, but she pushed it to the side for now, as the young man they had been sent to recruit had walked through the door, leaving them behind. Glancing at her two companions she gestured for them to follow.

The next few minutes passed in a similar vein, Harry briefly checking his omni-tool at each junction before blasting through a door and moving off. The monotony was broken when the quartet found themselves staring through a door at a large group of mercenaries clustered around a thin looking man who was giving them orders. The crash of the doors bouncing off the floor toward them brought their attention pretty quickly, and they had started to raise their guns when the thin man suddenly screamed:

"It's him! Kill the black haired one and you've got your money!" In immediate response, the mercenaries charged, firing their weapons as they went. Shepard's group hadn't been idle as they did, and they moved quickly to cover, kinetic barriers taking the few shots that did hit with ease. Shepard turned to face the confused looking man crouched next to her. She raised her eyebrows at him while gesturing to the impromptu fire-fight breaking out around them as Tali and Garrus returned fire.

"A quick trip to pick up a runner, you said," she remarked. "A five minute journey, you said."

The object of her sarcasm looked back with a smirk. "Makes it more _fun_ though," he quipped back. Shepard found a grim smile stealing onto her face in response, before motioning toward the enemy with her shotgun.

"Better get on with it then," she said, and leapt over the crate, taking a couple of shot on her barrier before performing a biotic charge directly into one of the mercenaries at the rear of the bay. As she hit she heard his armour crack under the force of the impact, smashing her opponent back into a pile of crates where he lay motionless. The suddenness of the take-down stunned the group she had landed in for a moment, allowing her to blast one of them with her shotgun, leaving him with a hole through his torso, and Garrus followed her up with a perfectly aimed blast to the unprotected head of a mercenary to her right. A set of abruptly terminated shrieks further off to her right indicated that Harry was going to work over there, and she dove for a crate in that direction to keep her behind cover. A sharp crackle of electricity later with a gleeful shout from Tali indicated that her combat drone had entered the fray. Shepard grinned again. Harry was right, she really did find this fun.

An almighty crash sounded around her cover, and she peered round to see the cause, before wrinkling her brow at the sight of crates packed up haphazardly against the back wall. Those had all been stacked in the middle of the room last she looked. Garrus called out a moment later.

"That's the last of them. I think the leader ran through the cargo doors!"

Shepard stepped out of cover as her team converged on her position, checking each other over for battle damage.

Garrus appeared to be watching Harry a little more closely than before, she thought. He shouldered his weapon as they got close enough to talk without shouting.

"You didn't mention you were that strong," Garrus said cautiously. "Those crates must have weighed over ten tons."

Harry smiled, and shrugged. "I've lifted heavier," he responded, dodging any further questions by gesturing toward the next set of doors. "We should get moving though. I'm not about to let this guy get away again." Shepard nodded, and indicated the door to Tali, before stopping and turning to Harry.

"You want to get this?" Harry grimaced and shook his head.

"I didn't think there was going to be resistance. I should probably save my energy, rather than go for speed." Shepard nodded, turning back to Tali, who had already moved over to the door. Oddly enough, there was more of a spring in her step with the dark-haired man's admission that he had limits. Tali spent a few seconds working the omni-tool, then waved it at the door. An orange light sprang up around the lock for thirty seconds, then the door started to slide apart. The doors opened halfway, before shuddering to a halt, the servos giving out along with the lights.

"He cut the power!" Exclaimed Tali, raising her shotgun to her shoulder and flicking on the light attached to it. Shepard followed suit, while Garrus manipulated his omnitool, activating his suits nightvision. The quartet moved in slowly, the flashlights flicking from shadow to shadow. Harry hung back a second, before passing his hand over his eyes, a dim blue glow bathing his face in light for a few moments.

A whimpering noise came from behind a crate as Shepard approached it, and she lifted a hand to silently signal the others to join her. As Harry joined her he heard a muttered refrain:

"Oh god, not him not him not him, _please_ not him..." Shepard met his eyes, and raised her eyebrow, clearly asking how he wanted to go forward. Harry grinned in response, before jerking his arm to the left, the crate violently following suit. The figure crouched behind it shrieked in terror, trying to bring its gun to bear on it's pursuers, before a second gesture from Harry slammed the alien flat against a wall. Harry advanced on the squirming Salarian while Shepard and her squad followed him up, all of them watching the dark-haired man with caution, though all for varying reasons.

"No, please, _please_ don't kill me!" The Salarian was now begging, suspended a full foot off the ground.

"Now why would I do a thing like that?" Harry asked with a hint of amusement in his voice. He put his face bare inches from the Salarian, forcing him to look into his jade eyes. "After all, you're worth so much more alive than dead..." His voice trailed off along with the Salarian's muttered pleas as the alien shook violently for a second, unable to tear his gaze away from the human's eyes. The moment stretched on, then sharply broke as Harry pulled away from the Salarian, allowing the shaking alien to drop to the floor. The pistol fell out of the shaking alien's limp grip as it curled up into a ball. Harry looked down at it for a moment, then detached a stunner from his belt and applied it to the back of the prone figure's neck, causing the shaking to relax as it lost consciousness. He turned and surveyed the three armour-clad people behind him.

"All done," he said, wandering toward them. "Let me just send a message..." Shepard cut into his words, raising her hand to get his attention.

"What was that?"

"What was what?" replied Harry.

"That... whatever that was!" said Tali sharply, gesturing at the unconscious Salarian on the ground near them. "You looked at him and then he wouldn't stop shaking." Harry looked at her, and smiled again, though it didn't seem to touch his eyes.

"I'm a scary guy," he said quietly, before moving past them to a clear pace to contact Illium and let them know they could pick up their cargo. As he moved past her, Shepard pivoted, keeping her back from him. She was starting to wonder if this was such a good idea.

"See you at your ship, Commander."


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Harry and co meet Samara. It goes well.

* * *

"Hey, you coming to meet the Commander's newest hire?" Harry jerked, startled by the shout, and looked up at the intruder. Jacob stood expectantly, waiting for him to get up, and Harry blinked at him.

"New hire?" he questioned as he put the pad down onto his makeshift cot. "What new hire?" Jacob shrugged in response.

"No idea, we can't make a move on the assassin till he tries for his target, and that isn't for another week or so, but I don't remember us being assigned another dossier on Illium. Guess we should go find out..." The dark-skinned man jerked his head in the direction of the lift. "Come on." Jacob seemed to have assigned himself to watch him, Harry mused. Either that or his normal reserved personality was something Jacob looked for in a friend. Still, Harry couldn't deny that it did come in handy, and the other man was fairly good company in the bar. The time-displaced wizard followed Jacob toward the lift, leaving the starboard viewing port where he most liked to spend his downtime reading over the Cerberus reports, looking for any sign of magic. It was more of a hobby these days though, he had long since given up on finding even a single magic user. The doors to the lift slid open, revealing Garrus, who cocked his head at the duo.

"Going to see the Justicar as well, huh?" Jacob looked puzzled at this.

"The who?" he asked as he and Harry stepped onto the lift. Garrus sighed, and flicked his mandibles.

"The asari Shepard brought on board. Presumably to join us reprobates." The door opened smoothly onto the control deck of the Normandy, allowing the trio to filter out, walking round to reach the briefing room through the science lab.

"That rings a bell," mused Harry as they walked. Jacob looked at him with a curious expression on his face.

"Really? It's not ringing anything over here," he responded. Garrus looked like he was about to say something when the doors to the science lab slid open. Mordin was in, tinkering with a piece of technology as he muttered to himself in a fast-paced whisper, his black eyes narrowed in concentration. As the door hissed open he flicked his eyes up to the entrance to his room. Seeing the three walk in, he placed the part back onto the workbench and moved forward to greet them.

"Ah, and how can I help today? Garrus you usually do your own modifications, and Mr Taylor you have not needed my assistance before, however you Mr Potter have the most fascinating biotics..." Harry raised a hand, waving the doctor off with a patient grin as he interrupted the speeding train of verbal diarrhoea.

"I'm still not going to let you experiment on me Mordin." The Salarian seemed to slump a little, before brightening again.

"Then you must be here to meet the Justicar. Great privilege to work with her, odds of one agreeing to work for a code that is not her own are... small." Jacob looked frustrated again.

"There's still that word, Justicar. What does it mean?" The four crew-mates walked into the briefing room with Jacob still grousing that no-one would tell him exactly who their new team member actually was, while Harry's brow creased more as he tried to remember why the word was ringing warning bells in his subconscious. As they walked into the room they were greeted by Miranda, her face twisted into an expression of dissatisfaction as she saw the four walk into the room.

"This isn't a class trip, you know," her light Australian accent took some of the sting, but the ice in her tone was plain. Jacob stepped forward to greet her, deflecting her comments as the other spread around the room. Harry tuned out the other's voices more as he focussed on the feeling in the pit of his stomach. He'd had the feelings before and they'd always been right before too. He looked up, bringing himself back into the world as the biotic signature of Commander Shepard approached the room, accompanied by another of slightly greater power. Harry reached out with his magic, testing the feel of the other and finding it to feel like an asari matriarch's, except familiar. Harry's forehead creased again, trying to remember the asari matriarchs he'd run into, before his eyes widened in a panic. The door slid open and the red-armoured, blue-skinned killer who'd sworn to hunt him till the ends of the galaxy walked in. Their eyes met at the same instant, and a single thought ripped itself across Harry's mind. _Well, shit._

The Justicar froze in the doorway, and for a brief instant the room was peaceful, the occupants turning to get their first look at the newcomer. And then the instant shattered, the asari flinging a dense biotic warp at the black-haired man on the other side of the room. Harry reacted with the same speed, throwing a blade of magical force straight through the speeding mass of twisted force, annihilating both of their attacks. He'd learned quickly to use nothing non-lethal against the massively powerful being, as she was easily skilled enough to overwhelm anything less than his full strength. A pair of heavy biotic blasts followed on the heels of the warp, and Harry mused that she'd only got faster in the last three years. He nullified the blasts with a heavy shield, rolling left to get more of the table in the way before retaliating with a spike of power aimed for her shoulder. The exchange had lasted little more than two seconds, and even as the Justicar negligently flicked the attack away Shepard's voice rose above the shriek of twisting metal.

"STAND DOWN!" The command came with references, as the commander simultaneously blindsided Harry with a gravity twisting push into the wall and knocked the Justicar's arms askew, ruining the biotic field she had been spinning between her hands. The break in combat was enough for Miranda and Mordin to have raised their biotics and omni-tool respectively and primed an attack on both of the combatants, neither having seen who threw the first punch. There was another pause as both the asari and the wizard clearly thought about fighting through the third parties, and then Shepard stepped into the middle of the pair.

"Stand. Down. Do _not_ make me repeat myself." The pair looked at the redhead, noticed the extremely heavy shotgun she held and the biotic energy warping around her frame, and decided not to push her.

"Now then, someone is going to explain themselves," the obviously angry woman continued, "and it had better be a _fantastic_ explanation." Harry rose to his feet slowly, still keeping his eyes on the statuesque woman opposite him, and cleared his throat nervously.

"It might be a little bit my fault," he said slowly. The Justicar snorted, clearly inches away from restarting the impromptu duel again.

"A little? You interfered in the one best chance I had in the last four decades. I would count that as more than a little interference." The Justicar was clearly willing Harry to restart the fight so she would have an excuse to continue. Harry straightened, his mouth settling into an unhappy line.

"And if I'd known what she was, then maybe I wouldn't have jumped in," he acknowledged. "But you started throwing biotics around in the middle of a crowded street. From where I was sitting, it was a random attack on no-one in particular."

"Okay, both of you need to calm down," Shepard had relaxed a little, the dark blue biotic aura retreating back into her implants, but she had yet to stow the shotgun, keeping it loose in her hands. She looked at Harry.

"You interfered in her hunt? And yet you're still alive." Harry smiled viciously.

"I'm tougher than I look," he responded. "And I still don't even know your name," he continued, gesturing at the asari. "After all, I doubt your name actually _is_ Justicar." The crimson armoured woman stiffened slightly, before glancing at Shepard, the woman whose code she had sworn to follow. Although, she thought to herself, this was before she had known this being followed her too. Eventually she sighed and acquiesced to the olive branch the human had extended.

"My name is Samara." Harry nodded cautiously at her words, and responded as politely as he could while still keeping his guard up.

"Harry Potter." Samara nodded back to him. Seeing both of them had reached a truce, however temporary, Shepard let herself relax the rest of the way, packing the shotgun back up and storing it on her back. She waved Harry out of the room, judging that it was best to get the two flashpoints away from each other. As the door closed behind the mysterious young man she silently vowed to track him down and get some more answers out of him.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Continuation from when Harry met Samara

* * *

Harry was sitting in the cafeteria, tinkering with a new piece of wood when he felt the commander approaching. His hands stilled in their movement as he contemplated making a run for the bathroom, and then he forced himself to relax, sitting back a little in his chair as the red-head moved to stand in front of him. She stood there for a moment, folding her arms as she waited for him to acknowledge her. Harry tried to meet her eyes, and failed, shifting his gaze to the side.

"Looking for that explanation, then?" He asked quietly, his eyes flickering back across her face. She nodded once, sitting in the chair opposite him.

"We were on Farissa. It's an asari planet, but not in their main space. Bit of a backwater. Still, nice enough. You don't get attacked going down the street – well, not unless a Justicar's after your blood, I guess." Harry had moved his gaze to a point over the commander's shoulder during his monologue, his eyes drifting as he stared into his memories.

"It was a nice day, damn hot. The young asari were showing some skin, even the mercs had taken off the armour. Then – Bam!" Harry sat forward with the last word, meeting the commander's eyes again.

"This well-armed, heavily armoured asari launches herself out a window and flings a singularity right at this lone girl. Pretty girl, couldn't be older than her second century from what I could see and hear. Now, I have what one of my friends called a "saving-people-thing". It's buried pretty deep down these days, but it's there. I won't help everyone, but an unarmed, un-armoured person on the street being attacked by a madwoman? I'll help, no questions asked. Sure, I might stop if I find that _they_ break my moral code, but a random stranger? Yeah, I'll settle things down." Shepard sat back, appraising the black-haired enigma. She could see it fairly clearly, and in all honesty she might even have done the same. She motioned Harry to go on.

"So I jump in. My reflexes have always been damn good, and my aim is – if I dare say so myself – pretty near phenomenal. So I spear the singularity out of the sky, blowing it apart a couple of meters back from this girl's head. She, of course, screams and looks round, sees who it is and runs. Off like a shot into the crowd. Couldn't blame her either, not at the time or later. So the Justicar's just been screwed out of her prey by me. I'm an outsider, a human on an asari world, no-ones gonna help me against her." Harry snorted in amusement at the memory.

"Four hours it took for me to get back to my ship and get it up in the air. Took another one to get _her_ off it. Five hours of near constant fighting, running and hiding. On both our parts." Shepard looked confused, holding up a hand.

"You made her hide?" She asked disbelievingly. "She doesn't seem the type." Harry's smile contracted, gaining a vicious edge, and he dropped his gaze to the table.

"When you ram a metal pole through someone's stomach, they tend to have to run away, even if it's just to apply medigel. Chased her for half an hour after that, trying to catch her so I could knock her out. Hell, I'd have settled for her passing out from exertion and blood-loss. She's made of tough stuff though." Harry looked back up at the commander as he said that. "She's only become faster, too. She'll be one hell of a weapon on the field. Might be best to keep me and her out of each other's line of fire though. I've got nothing against her, but I think getting that close and being cut off at the knees might have pissed her off a little."

Shepard nodded in acknowledgement, then sighed.

"Why is it never easy?" Harry let out a dry chuckle.

"Because we're the good guys, Shepard. Don't you ever read? The good guys _never_ get it easy" She gave a wry smile in answer as she got out of the chair.

"Enjoy your... whatever it is you do," she said, gesturing at the pile of wood shavings in front of the wizard. "I'm getting some rest." Harry raised a hand in acknowledgement as she left, settling back into the chair and allowing his senses to flow outward again. He tensed back up as they did, feeling Samara at the edge of his consciousness. He slid his gaze to the left, gathering his power just in case. The blue-skinned woman was stood at the junction next to the lift, her eyes trained on him. He could feel the power building in her hands, and he again wondered why he could feel it. It was physics, and technology, and mechanical implants. A shiver ran down his spine as she approached, and he shifted all of his attention over to her as she rounded the table. Both of them were clearly on edge, spines straight and hands clenched into fists as the Justicar settled into the seat Shepard had just left. They stayed silent for several minutes, both pairs of eyes locked onto the others. Samara broke the silence first.

"I will not seek to attack you while either of us follow Shepard." Harry nodded slightly, keeping their eye contact unbroken.

"I return the sentiment." He replied, stating the words precisely. The asari returned the slight nod before continuing.

"I offer you a bargain," she stated quietly. "Either you will assist me in my quest, providing information or willing assistance, or when our contracts are finished, we will battle. No retreating." Harry cocked his head to the side, thinking about the offer.

"And if you find and deal with your quarry before I can assist?" The asari's eyes tightened.

"Then we will battle. To submission." Harry contemplated her terms, their eyes still locked, then gave another slight nod.

"Agreed," he said softly, "thrice bound I swear, I shall lend you one instance of aid, if called upon, for your quest to find and deal with the Ardat-Yakshi that bears the name Morinth." The statuesque asari's eyebrows tightened in confusion as he swore, then her eyes widened in shock as Harry's magic bound the oath to him with a soft glow of light. With that, Harry outwardly relaxed, returning his gaze to the piece of wood he was currently investigating. His insides were still on edge, though, and his magic sense followed the asari from the room, watching for any flare of biotic power. As she turned the corner toward the observation deck that she had claimed for her own she moved out of Harry's sense, and he finally let the magic that had been pooling in his body relax back into his core.

"Great," he muttered as the crew started to filter in for the off-shifts breakfast. "Just... great."


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Harry meets Jack. It also goes well.

* * *

"So who are you then?" The harsh voice cut through Harry's ears as he made his way into Normandy's café area. He looked across to his left, and found his eyebrows being dragged towards his hairline at the sight that was currently standing next to him.

"Had a good look you fucker?" The words were offensive enough, Harry considered, but when taken with the angry tone... She was spoiling for a fight. His magic jumped to his fingertips, waiting to be unleashed as he held her gaze for a moment, then drifted his eyes over her.

In short, she was short, bald and covered in tattoos. The ink stretched over every visible bit of her, and her preferred style of dress left a lot visible. The trousers were dark, and the harness she wore as a top was already projecting a biotic barrier that shimmered dark blue around her form. There were no weapons hitched to the gun-belt, but Harry's sense of magic was lighting the girl up like a Christmas tree. She was possibly the most powerful biotic he'd ever met, and he'd gone toe-to-toe with an asari matriarch gunning for his head. If she had the skills to match, she'd be an insane fighter, thought Harry in the privacy of his head, before sliding his eyes back up to her face. Which was now twisted in anger. _Yep, I've still got it_. Harry's thoughts echoed the sentiment out, before he pulled himself into combat mode. It was all pack behaviour, he thought. And he was not about to back down.

"Now I have," he said. Her face seemed to twist even more, the anger showing in every line of her body. Harry felt the other people clearing out around them, heard someone pass the order to get the commander. A few moments later, the tattooed woman blew her top. Harry saw the shifting power surge through her aura both with his magical sight and his actual sight, as the visible biotic aura she was producing was now a few inches thick. A warp blew out of her right hand a bare second after it started forming, only to be torn in half by a precisely aimed blade of magical force. A wide blast of force followed the blade, slamming the angry woman back into the bulkhead and knocking her head against the wall. She staggered forward, the anger shaken from her face by the impact that she felt even through her barrier. Harry cocked his head, watching her aura carefully to see what she would try next. She got her wits back together even as he felt Commander Shepard moving fast down the stairs. Harry grimaced as he felt her pulling together a lot of energy, and realised she was going for a charge a split second before it happened.

It was just enough time to shield his body with all his strength before she slammed into him at full speed, forcing him to repeat her earlier flight as he slammed into the wall on the other side of the deck. Unlike him, however, the angry woman seemed unhappy to stick to defence, closing in to deliver a biotic-enhanced punch. Harry responded through instinct as his head was still ringing from the blow, throwing a spear of magical energy toward the flare he could feel approaching. He felt the flare gutter out as the spear pierced it, and followed up with a pair of the heaviest banishers he could manage, launching them one from each hand with a shout of effort. He felt one of them connect with the small girl, sending her sharply backwards, but then felt another pair of biotics activating their implants, one knocking his second banisher to the side and the other stopping the flying girl from pasting onto the wall. Harry managed to stop his eyes spinning long enough to see most of the crew, and all of the team, in the mess hall, guns trained on both him and his opponent.

Shepard was in the middle of the room, shotgun pointed towards Harry and an aura so dark blue it was almost black hovering around a hand pointed at the girl. Harry looked over at the girl and saw her cradling her hand, which was dripping blood onto the floor. He'd probably punched a hole through her palm, he mused distractedly, flicking his gaze around the crowd that had entered the mess hall after hearing the ship ring like a bell from the impacts. Harry raised his hands slowly, spreading his arms out to the sides in a gesture of surrender, and watched as his opponent relaxed her stance in response.

"Jack, get into medical, Harry with me." Shepard's voice was curt, and full of anger, but still controlled enough to not be shouting. She lowered her shotgun and relaxed her biotics before turning on her heel and marching to the lift, clearly expecting her instructions to be followed. Harry met Jack's eyes as they followed their respective orders, and skimmed her mind with leglimency. It was a bad habit to get into, he mused as he got into the lift next to the still slightly glowing commander. But it had given him the answer he had wanted. This "Jack" was still insanely angry with him, but she wouldn't be jumping him in the lunch queue again any time soon. Now he just had to deal with the other biotic he had pissed off.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Actually the first one I wrote for this, which is probably why it's so short.

It's set on Miranda's loyalty mission. Enjoy

* * *

Shepard ducked behind a cargo bin, waving Miranda and Harry forward to take cover near the right side of the large cargo door. She readies the shotgun, waiting quietly for the door to open in front of the YMIR mech they had seen moving toward it. Miranda copies the motion with the hand cannon she'd appropriated from the armoury, backing up Harry who seems happy enough using his odd biotics. Shepard still didn't understand those, the scans she'd had EDI run on the quiet had been oddly fractured, refusing to give a clear image of the enigmatic man. However, the AI remained adamant that there were no mass effect fields emanating from his body. The door finally opened, and the heavy clank of the mech thudded into the room.

Shepard spun round the side of the bin, spiking her biotic implant in preparation for the signature vanguard charge. The mech whirred as it's optics sighted onto her, levelling its main autocannon at her armoured form. A hail of bullets swept out, missing her by half a second as she thudded into its chest at a respectable speed, forcing it backwards even as she was reflected by the shield. Miranda's pistol barked sharply a second later, launching shards of metal into the side of the 'head' of the mech. Shepard took advantage of the machines stagger and blasted it with the modified Claymore shotgun she carried as a matter of course. Without the modifications to both herself and the gun, such an action would have shattered the bones in her forearm, but as it stood it dimply sent the mechs shields shattering out of existence. She moved backwards quickly, knowing from bitter experience that the mech could do a lot of damage in close quarters and heard Miranda start to reload.

In a blink of an eye, the mech was slammed into the side wall. The suddenness of the move startled the experienced N7 operative, and she glanced reflexively at the third member of her little band. Harry stood with a hand out, having obviously performed some sort of biotic attack on the large robot. As she watched, still moving back into cover, he raised his other hand before flinging it to the left with an audible grunt. A second crash from the robot confirmed her thought that he had somehow flung it again, and a shiver ran down her spine. She hadn't felt a thing. Just like the last few times, he seemed to have no biotic aura whatsoever. She shook her head, cursing herself for her distraction, before rounding on the metallic threat. The arm wielding the rocket launcher had been torn off, and the robot appeared to be wedged into the wall it had been thrown into. Whatever it was Harry wielded, it was immensely strong.

Miranda gave a growl, and stalked over to the struggling machine.

"We're wasting time," she spat, putting a round through its optics at close range. The chassis shut down as it dropped below the programmed threshold for effective use. "We need to get to the docking bay and find my sister."

The normally reserved woman had lost a lot of her ice-queen mask recently, mused Shepard as she nodded, gesturing toward the still open door. Harry moved through first, crossing in front of her vision. Her musing continued onto the puzzle of the young man. His reserve, she had yet to crack.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Shepard & co invade the collector ship. I shook up the whole "Three man team" for this, as while it makes for good gameplay, it's less good for not making Harry the go-to character to have along on a mission.

I seriously enjoyed writing this though, so have at it.

* * *

Shepard looked at her team with a level stare as she finished the briefing.

"Are you all okay with your roles in this? The Illusive Man claims that this ship is drifting, dead in the water. I don't know whether we can trust him or not, but I'm not about to walk onto a ship that may or may not be full of hostiles without one hell of a fall-back plan."

Harry looked round the room, evaluating everyone's response to their commander basically telling them she had no trust for their employer. He would have expected Miranda to tell them to trust the man, but apparently her wardrobe change after their little jaunt to help her sister had included a loyalty change. Clearly Shepard was the leader in Miranda's head now.

Not that Harry had anything against the plan. The Illusive Man – and if that wasn't an even more corny title than _any_ Harry had acquired – was a slippery bastard, that was for sure. Harry wouldn't put it past him to with-hold information simply to ensure his pawns stayed reliant on begging him for every scrap he doled out. But then, Harry had history with the man, so maybe he was biased there too.

The rest of the team looked happy with the situation, though Harry saw Samara eyeing him with narrowed eyes. He still found it odd that Asari mannerisms reflected humanities so closely, like blue skinned space cousins. Still, they were alien, and occasionally you got a glimpse into why – like someone who would jump into a crowded street with all guns blazing still being treated as an avatar of justice. Shepard had clearly finished her own evaluation of the room, clapping her hands together and dismissing them all with a reminder to get some shut-eye before the mission. Harry pulled himself out of his chair, intent on doing just that as he joined the team leaving the room.

Mordin was happily babbling to Jacob about the possible technologies that could be taken from the derelict vessel, the dark-skinned man nodding along with the doctors words, occasionally interjecting a comment which always seemed to send the Salarian along another path entirely. The rest of the team seemed quiet, everyone psyching themselves up for the confrontation to come. Harry took another look around then headed for his bunk. Six hours of sleep sounded like heaven at this point.

* * *

The omnitool alarm was, Harry reflected as he woke, the most irritating alarm in all of existence. It felt like someone was trying to electrocute your arm by shaking needles under your skin. Horrible. Still, he had to acknowledge that it was damn effective. Harry stared into the mirror over the sink he had commandeered to wake himself up over. His hair was getting long again, and his stubble was past the point where he looked gruff, leaving him looking like a fourteen year old growing his first beard. Sometimes it wasn't worth even looking in the mirror. Harry sighed, leaning onto the sink with his hands, and pressed his forehead against the reflective sheen in front of him.

Still alone. He had looked, and looked _hard_. Not one wizard to be found, not one magical species. He'd gone back to earth once. He'd set one foot on the ground, and promptly vomited everything out of his stomach, and a few things that hadn't been in there in the first place. He'd staggered back to the ship, paid the worried looking assistant and crawled into bed till he was out of the gravity well. He didn't know what was wrong with the earth, but from the second he touched the dirt till the moment he got out of the planets atmosphere his magic had felt like it was trying to kill him. Hell, for a few minutes he'd thought it was going to manage it.

And yet, even if all the adult wizards had chosen to stay on a planet that killed them, surely there should have been some trained muggleborn who left. After all, he doubted someone like Hermione would have been happy to stay and die just for the sake of never leaving the planet. But there was nothing, and no-one. He'd even tried to find a trace of accidental magic, but he found nothing. Harry stayed pressed against the mirror for a few heartbeats longer, before being dragged out of his introspection by the sound of the door to the communal bathroom sliding open. Garrus stepped in, nodding at him before moving to the Turian-specific chamber. Harry took a deep breath, looked himself in the mirror and picked up his shaving kit.

"Game face on, Potter," he muttered to himself as he lathered his face up. "Time to go to work."

* * *

The full team were suited up in the hold in preparation for boarding the shuttle. Harry ran over Shepard's briefing again in his head while they waited for the shuttle pilot to run through his checks.

Two teams. One to scout the ship and try to find the information on the Omega-4 relay, and one to guard the exit. After all, it would be an amazingly good place to spring a trap. All the collectors would need to do would be wait till the scouts got to the middle of the ship, then wake up. Which is why the guard team would be running hot, ready to hit the collectors from the door side at the same time as the scout team tried to escape. The crossfire would give Shepard's team time to get out. Simple and easy.

The teams were split sensibly too, in Harry's opinion. Shepard knew her stuff, and it showed. Three of the heavy hitters: Jack, Harry and Grunt, would be in the guard team, while Samara would be in the scouts with Shepard. The scientist and engineer would be with Shepard, able to decipher and crack the computers, while Garrus led the home team, making the best use of the long firing lanes their entrance would have. Thane with the scouts to handle any invisible wetwork when the Collectors inevitably showed themselves, Miranda to lead the big damn heroes of the guard team to rescue Shepard, and Jacob to watch Garrus' back.

It was odd, thought Harry. Not more than a couple of weeks ago the team had been less of a team and more a group held together by Shepard. But it seemed that Shepard's fire and conviction were infectious, spreading throughout not only the team, but the whole ship. Harry had seen a couple of the guys from the hangar deck arm-wrestling Grunt for laughs the other day. One had to go see Chakwas due to pulling every muscle in his arm, but they all got along. Even he was smoothing out, feeling less defensive when people asked him about his whittling, the constant efforts to replace his wand with no magical creatures left to provide a core.

There were still some holdouts – Samara held herself aloof, and Jacob and Thane both had twitchy moments sometimes – but for the most part they were a team. Then again, thought Harry, given how dangerous our opponents seem to be, that might be the only thing that keeps us all alive after all this.

Then the time for waiting was over, and the team piled onto the shuttle for the short hop across to the 'derelict' Collector vessel. Harry wondered if anyone believed that any more. He doubted it.

* * *

The guard team were getting restless, keeping themselves on alert in their chosen spots. It had been about an hour now, and there hadn't been a single bullet fired. Suddenly Garrus' radio chirped, and he responded with all the efficiency that Turians are famed for. A few seconds later, Garrus cleared his throat, and the guard team pricked their ears up.

"Shepard says she's nearly at what appears to be the control centre. Get ready." The team responded to Garrus' words with thinly hidden eagerness. Jack and Grunt had clearly been getting annoyed at the lack of movement, though Jack had been a lot calmer since Shepard let her blow up an abandoned base. Harry gave a mental shrug, he was hardly one to comment on the issues of others. As one of the people he'd met on his travels had said, he didn't have issues – he had _subscriptions_.

There was the sensation of the calm before the storm for the next few minutes, so it was almost a relief when the ship shuddered around them, the lights fixed into the walls flickering into a fuller brightness. The radio clicked, and Garrus' voice burst onto the airwaves.

"Everyone get ready."

The collectors swarmed out of what was previously solid rock. Unseen doors slid down into the floor, and the insectoid aliens rushed out in groups from each one. Garrus took the first kill, along with the second, his rifle throwing a bullet straight through one collector and into his friend. The combat degenerated somewhat at that point, with Jack and Grunt slamming biotics-first into the biggest cluster of enemies that each could see and proceeding to toss the brown aliens around like sparks from a bonfire. Harry hung back a bit, spearing collectors on needles of magic, conserving his power for when they would be told to go pull Shepard out of the fire that the Illusive Man had thrown them into.

The meleè had been running for about five minutes when Shepard's signal finally pinged onto the guard teams sensors, and Garrus let out a sigh of relief. The lack of contact had been worrying him given the numbers that the guard team was facing. Then again, Garrus thought as he took down another pair of bug-eyed collectors with a single shot, whatever was looking after Shepard didn't seem to care about the odds. Show her a fight, and she would blast, charge and headbutt her way through it until everything that wasn't on Shepard's side was either dead or very sorry to be alive.

The radio chirped again, and Garrus instructed his omnitool to open the channel. Shepard's voice broke through, sounding as it always did in combat – exhilarated, and with a touch of blood-lust tingeing the edges.

"Garrus, might be a good time to send the back-up," her voice cut off for a moment as the sound of a plasma beam washed over the radio, before she carried on as if nothing had happened. "They seem to have rolled out a pair of big guys who are giving us a bit of grief."

Garrus rolled his eyes at the clear understatement present in the commander's voice, but keyed his microphone to respond.

"Copy that Commander, the big damn heroes are incoming."

Garrus heard a chuckle from the commander before the line cut off, and retuned his microphone to the teams frequency.

"Alright boys and girls, the Commander's got herself into a pickle. Why don't you guys go be heroes while Jacob and I hold down the fort." Garrus lined up another shot as he waited for a response, and perforated his chosen collector with a bullet to it's oversized cranium.

Miranda's voice cut back across the comms, directed at the heavy hitters of their squad.

"You guys get that? Harry, clear us a path to the door, Jack and Grunt keep it quiet at the sides." Miranda's instructions were followed to the letter, Harry cutting loose with a ravening blast of energy that seemed to eat away at the collectors even as it smashed them to the sides in what appeared to be a horrifying combination of a warp and a throw. The gap was almost closed by a group of collectors to the right, however they quickly found themselves introduced to Jack's fists and Grunt's forehead, leaving a group of broken bodies in their wake.

Harry and Miranda ran down the cleared corridor, Jack and Grunt bringing up the rear as Jacob and Garrus turned to their job of picking off the stragglers.

"Left here," Miranda had a map open on her omnitool, studying it even as she put a tight grouping of bullets into a collector on the other side of the room. Jack radioed an affirmative even as she punched a shockwave into a tightly packed bunch of husks that charged straight into the biotic death she was dealing out.

"Door, at our three o'clock," called out Miranda, closing the omnitool. "The Commander's behind it. Care to say hello, Harry?"

"It'd be my pleasure, Miranda." Harry moved up to the door, trusting the three warriors behind him to cover his back as he reached out with his senses. All five of the scouts were in one piece, and it looked like they had managed to deal with one of the Praetorians. This door was a lot thicker than the ones the Council races used, and the lock a lot heavier, but Harry slid his magic through the door and into the locks. Once he had it where he wanted it, he reached out with his mind and _twisted_.

The locking bolts were three feet thick. The door itself was close to five. All of it was made of starship grade metal-analogue. It made Harry happy that he'd chosen to conserve his power, although even with that it was a struggle. He heard a low voice roaring from a distance, and realised dimly that it was him. The doors were strong, but he felt the metal buckle and tear, the locks rending themselves to pieces under the stress of his magic. With that done he turned his full power to the doors. He could have chosen to simply slam them into the recesses built for them, but with his senses extended he could feel where the Praetorian that the scouts were fighting was. And frankly, he really didn't feel like fighting one of those right now.

With an almighty heave of his magic Harry tore the doors from their sockets and sent them flying straight at the already damaged Praetorian. It had enough time to let off a single shriek, which Harry liked to think of as a screamed 'What the hell!', before 60 tonnes of door slammed into it at speed. The result was pretty comprehensive, but Harry hadn't got where he was without making sure, so he raised the door back up before slamming it down again on top of the corpse of the creature. Then, job done, he doubled up, sucking in deep breaths of air to try and replenish his strength.

The fight seemed to pause for everyone involved as even the collectors stared at what had just happened. The doors which had just been torn from their place and sent flying were some of the heaviest on the entire ship, designed to keep the internal structure of the ship separate from the external passages, which could easily be exposed to vacuum by a lucky mass driver hit. Shepard's team took advantage of the lull in the fighting, slipping out through the new hole to link up with the retrieval team. The addition of five more guns took their toll on the collector force, which retreated in the face of the overwhelming firepower.

Now that the teams had linked up, fighting their way back to the exit point was almost insultingly easy, especially as their enigmatic enemy seemed reluctant to commit more Praetorians to the field given that Shepard's team had shown themselves to be entirely too effective at destroying them. The exit point itself was still held by Garrus and Jacob, though they had been forced to fall back to their own back-up points, holding the collector force off with speedy replacement of thermal clips.

The team threw themselves back onto the shuttle, firing final shots towards the door they had exited by in an effort to keep the aliens from shooting the shuttle as it left. The shuttle then proceeded to repeat the manoeuvre, throwing itself inside the Normandy's cargo bay and allowing it to go to ftl seconds before the main gun of the collector ship tore through the space it was occupying.

The mood on the Normandy was a mixture as the team piled out of the shuttle. Exhilaration, as they had just pulled off an incredibly dangerous mission, and disappointment as the Illusive Man had just shown himself to be completely untrustworthy. EDI had confirmed to the commander on the shuttle that, having re-reviewed the signal sent by the 'Turian scout ship' which apparently discovered the derelict, the signal had been faked using methods Cerberus were already well aware of.

No-one was defending the Illusive Man, and the feeling was the same with everyone. Use the information he gives us, but he'd not trustworthy, and possibly never can be.

Harry spent the next 24 hours asleep on his bunk, suffering magical exhaustion from the trick he'd pulled off, along with the continued fighting both before and afterwards. Still, Harry thought as he rolled out of bed after sleeping the tiredness away, it was totally worth it. The look on Samara's face as she saw him lift 60 tonnes of door and crush a Praetorian into paste was _fantastic._


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Samara uses her vow from Harry

* * *

Relaxation time. It was a strange concept, mused Harry as he walked casually along the street. It had been less than a week since the assault on the Collector vessel, and Shepard had decided that the crew needed some down time after the close call. Harry had been on the alien vessel, in the thick of the action, but the crew of the Normandy hadn't had an easy time either.

Joker had put the ship through it's paces trying to keep it near enough to the collector ship to successfully extract the team, and despite the engineering that had gone into the ship, it had struggled to stray in one piece. The crew had held it together despite the knowledge that the Collector ship had destroyed the previous Normandy, and they had all survived it in the end.

There had been one casualty of the battle, though. The knowledge had spread through the ship that the Illusive man had betrayed them. The signal which had led them to the Collector ship had been faked, and their so-called leader had known. For the majority of Shepard's team this hadn't come as a surprise as most of them had been primed to expect betrayal from Cerberus, however it was different for the crew.

They hadn't been recruited by Shepard, they had come through Cerberus directly. And for the man who had recruited them to throw them into the fire without even a word of warning... Harry knew how that could feel from his own experiences. It left you wondering who to trust. At least this crew had Shepard – she had saved the galaxy once already, and seemed primed to do it all over again.

Still, all the tension had to go somewhere, and the Commander had decided that the Asari garden world of Nevos was the best place. Harry had to admit, the place they had set down was one of the nicer tourist traps he'd visited in the few years he'd been around the galaxy.

He walked down by the waterfront, nodding at the occasional crew-member who wandered by, laughing at the drunken antics of a few as they attempted to teach another how to swim by throwing her into the ocean. Harry cast his eyes about, noting the peace, and decided that something was definitely going to happen soon. It would be about par for his luck.

* * *

He felt her before he saw her. The Asari Justicar was like a glowing ball of light to his senses, shimmering with some nameless colour as she moved towards him. She was both armed and armoured, moving through the throng of tourists like a shark through a school of fish. Harry took the few moments before she reached him to reflect on how he sometimes hated being right, and came to a halt as she did, facing each other in the sunlight.

"Y'know, I think this town is plenty big enough for both of us." Harry's attempt at humour seemed to fall flat as the Asari looked at him with a puzzled expression. He shook his head – apparently Westerns weren't a big thing for Asari.

"You swore to provide me with one instance of help." Samara could be circumspect, Harry thought, noting her interactions with the others on the ship. However, she never had been with him, and he had never felt the need to try. She wanted to kill him, after all.

Harry considered her words, then nodded.

"Yes, I did." The words hung in the air between them, his tone just as flat as hers. They stood there for a moment, both of them sizing the other up.

"Then you will help me now." She delivered the words evenly, though Harry could guess at how it must have galled her to ask for his help. _Then again_, Harry thought as he nodded, _she might have put it behind her._

Samara turned and strode towards the end of the street, and Harry followed, if only to avoid having to run to catch her up. They walked like this for several minutes, till eventually Harry spoke up impatiently.

"Are you going to tell me _why_ exactly you need my help? I presume it has to do with Morinth..." Harry trailed off with the look Samara gave him.

"Do not mention her name, unless you wish to damage my hunt as badly as you did before." The expression which accompanied the words was venomous, and Harry re-evaluated his thoughts on the Asari's opinion of him. _Not over it, then, _he thought ruefully.

He kept silent for the rest of the journey, following the woman through the twists of alleys as they moved away from the tourist front of the city. Eventually the Asari came to a stop around the corner from a club. Harry could feel the bass reverberating through the walls, and the general clamour of a crowd drifted round the corner. He looked over at Samara, eyebrow raised in a silent question.

She stared at him for a moment, before gesturing to the club and speaking softly enough that Harry had to strain to hear her.

"I have been informed that you are capable of subtly gaining information from people. I believe that the owner of this club has assisted the one I seek. If this is true they will be aware of me. Therefore, you will find the information I need from the owner." Her instructions given, she stepped back, leaning against the wall as Harry considered her orders.

Her words were true enough, he thought. His talent at _leglimency_, meagre as it would have been considered against either Snape or Voldemort, was more than enough to flick through untrained minds. The issue came in the form of Asari matriarchs, who were rarely mentally untrained. Though the odds of such an individual running a backwater club on a backwater world were rare, to say the least.

He nodded once, acknowledging the order, and gave himself a quick once-over before heading around the corner. It wouldn't do to be rejected for having sand all over his clothes, after all.

* * *

Getting into the club had been fairly simple, and Harry had refrained from using magic so early on. He was still wand-less, and while he could pull off most spells without it, those that affected the mind were... tricky... without something to focus on. Still, money made the world go round, and made the annoyance of a 'guest-list' vanish quite handily.

The insides of the club could have been pulled from any such place in any part of the Citadel. The club was lit with soft blue undertones shining from indented lights on the walls. The lights were just bright enough to let Harry see the furniture, but kept dark shadows in the booths scattered around the walls. Most had one or two people sat in them, draped far enough in the shadows that it was impossible to tell their species. The bar sat in the centre of the room, a smooth circle with the drinks in the centre, artfully lit so that the bottles were clear, but the light did not touch those standing at the bar.

The dance floor itself surrounded the bar, occupying most of the room. The dancers there were lit by flashing strobe lighting, giving their movements a stilted stop-motion feel. Harry blew the breath out of his lungs, and settled into the atmosphere. He moved towards the bar, sliding through the crowd of drunken revellers as he kept an eye out for the back door. He spotted it as he reached the bar, the door was hidden in a recess between two booths. Only the presence of a Krogan bouncer had tipped him off, they weren't exactly built for subtle.

He ordered a drink, and smiled at the dancers around him while he surveyed the rest of the club. The Asari seemed to build everything in preparation for a fire-fight, Harry thought as he looked round. The booths around the hidden door were placed to give defenders clear lines of fire, and strategically placed pillars through the dance floor gave easy fall-back points from the main door. Paranoia was such an ugly word, thought Harry, but it seemed to describe the design perfectly.

There were more guards than the Krogan, too. At least six, more likely eight, judging from what could be seen in the shadows at the edges of the club. Harry pulled his power to himself and began to walk towards the door, leaving his drink unfinished on the bar counter. He walked up to the Krogan and saw the guards he'd noticed earlier tense in preparation, while the Krogan simply grinned in anticipation.

"Bathrooms the other way." The statement was delivered deadpan by the Krogan as Harry got close enough to hear him, his expression practically begging Harry to keep walking.

Mental magic was complex, thought Harry as he readied his spell, made even worse due to the loss of his wand when he woke up in this time. But still, not impossible. All mental magic, from the simple to the complex, relied on will, and even at fourteen Harry had more willpower than most adults.

"_Confundo_." He whispered the word, shaping the magic to his will, and felt it take hold in the Krogan's mind. The bulky alien rocked slightly, his eyes momentarily becoming unfocussed as the spell twisted his mind to Harry's wishes.

The Krogan waved his hand in a quick gesture, and the other guards relaxed as they realised that the bouncer knew the human. Harry pointed at the door questioningly, and the Krogan waved him in, keying open the door as Harry walked towards it with a confident step. _Here we go_, Harry thought as he walked in, _time to go to work_.

* * *

The corridors behind the main club were built along the same lines as the dance floor, with recesses built to allow defenders to hide while preventing any attackers the same luxury. The lighting was the same shade of blue as the hall, though there were no handy shadows to skulk in. Harry noticed this as he walked, keeping his stride confident and his gaze clear as he moved through the corridors.

He passed several Asari who had stopped for a chat, nodding a greeting at them as he walked past them. Harry had to resist the urge to grin when they responded the same way. It didn't matter what species you were, if you acted like you had a right to be there no-one ever questioned you. Still, eventually someone would get suspicious if he kept walking around.

Harry stepped into an office space, quickly looking around for the best person to ask. There was a young Asari sitting on her own in the nearest corner, surrounded by abandoned drinks cups and stacks of datapads. _Perfect,_ Harry thought to himself.

He walked up to her with a quick step, and cleared his throat to get her attention. She jumped, caught off guard by the sudden noise, and almost dropped the pad she was working on as she twisted round to see who had made it. Harry smiled politely as she met his gaze, then asked quietly,

"Is the boss in? She asked me to see her when I came in."

The Asari's mouth hung open for a moment as she switched from work to people, and Harry revised his estimate of her age down a few decades.

"Erm. Yes...Yes, she's in her office. At the end of the hall, on the right." She sounded as though she thought she was being graded on the answer, her voice trying to rise in question at the end. Harry nodded, smiling in gratitude at the woman before moving away toward the hall the Asari had indicated.

The others in the office had started to notice him now, and Harry moved a little quicker toward the end of the hall. There were no particularly strong biotics in the building from what he could feel, but a fire-fight would leave obvious traces, and Harry doubted that Samara wanted her prey to know whether she was close.

The door at the end of the hall was unlocked, and Harry could feel only one biotic inside, so he quickly slid the door open and stepped through. The blue-skinned woman looked up from her datapad in surprise at the intruder, her surprise quickly turning to confusion as she saw the block-haired human who had just walked in.

"I know I don't have any humans on staff," the Asari began cautiously. "So I hope you don't mind if I ask who you are?"

Harry smiled as the door slid shut behind him, and walked over to take the chair on his side of the desk.

"Not at all," he answered easily. "My name's Harry. What's yours?"

Her head tilted as she considered the question, obviously confused by the genial looking man's invasion of her office.

"Shanda." Her words had an odd undercurrent of both curiosity and annoyance. "And as you didn't know that, I presume you are not here to kill me." Her head shifted back to vertical as she considered the possibilities, and Harry kept a smile on his face as he kept his eyes on hers. The Asari continued, her tone turning contemplative. "So that means you want information. I own this club, so it could be something on a patron, but I think if it was that petty you would have planned ahead and known my name. Which means it's bigger than that... Ah." With that, her voice trailed away, and her fingers curled into fists on the desk.

Harry tilted his head now, considering her sudden silence.

"Looks like the game's up then," he said into the quiet. "This can be as easy or as hard as you make it."

* * *

Shanda drew in a breath, and prepared to give her life for the woman she had only known for a few days, helping her flee from the devil that chased her. She had sworn to help her, and protect her, and she would. She raised her eyes to the piercing green eyes opposite her, ready to tell him to do his worst, and stopped dead.

Her body felt like lead. She heard a word, whispered from his lips, but it was nothing compared to the feeling in her head. It was like a meld, and yet horrifyingly different. A meld was a joining, a sanctity. This was a piercing, a mental push of white noise that slid into her head, and memories skittered over the surface of her minds eye.

...

_The Ardat-Yakshi was coming here! To her club. Shanda knew that she would not stay for long, all Ardat-Yakshi that were outside the monastery were pursued viciously. Still, she would provide for her._

_..._

_She had chosen where she was going, a station near the terminus systems, Omega. The Justicar that stalked her would not follow there, so far outside of Asari space._

_..._

The white noise pushed again. The date.

_It had been less than two months since Morinth had passed through, and now this human was asking questions. He must not survive this day. The goddess must be protected!_

_..._

The noise receded slightly, Shanda's head ringing like a bell from the intrusion, and then stabbed back into her mind like a blade. The Asari's back arched, her eyes still haplessly locked onto the human's as her mouth opened into a soundless scream. The noise was scouring her mind, scratching over the last few minutes, tearing any knowledge of the intruder out of her head.

Shanda slumped onto the desk, her eyes blank as her mind shut down to heal itself. Harry convulsed slightly, pulling his hand to his head as the backlash from the forced _leglimency_ made itself felt inside his mind. He shook himself once, then pulled himself to his feet. Harry pulled a small stick of electronics from his pocket, and ran through the thankfully simple arming sequence for the scrambler grenade, setting it for a one minute countdown.

* * *

He had made it back to the main dance floor when his mental countdown ran out, and the clubs lights died completely, before one of the bartenders had the sense to hit the manual switch for the main lights. The scrambler was probably overkill, and would be connected with the odd human, but they wouldn't link him to Morinth, and that was what mattered.

Harry joined the throng of people flooding outside, and walked casually back to the alley where Samara waited. She was stood in the exact same position as she was when he left, clearly willing to wait for him.

He stopped in front of her, and she looked at him, waiting for him to speak.

"Omega." Harry's voice was clipped, his mood still frayed from his trip through Shanda's head. "She's on Omega."

Samara nodded, and stayed silent. Harry waited a moment more, then turned and walked away, feeling the Asari follow after a moment.


End file.
